


“What a beautiful happy ending.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [32]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 17:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“What a beautiful happy ending.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes/gifts).



> A gift for ADreamIsAWishYourHeartMakes. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “I don't know if someone mentioned it in some other comment but I have a thought of an elevator kiss... Maybe Cormoran and Robin reading some love-letters from a suspect and then in the close space of an elevator they decide to give in to their feelings or something like that... Cormoran trying to pull away out of fear that he messed everything up and Robin just asking him to not stop!”

“Remind me again what we’re doing here,” Strike said as they approached the block of flats. The early evening sun glinted off the windows, sparkling yellow and gold. Robin was rummaging in her bag for the keys. 

“Right,” she said. “Laura is a young woman who her mum says is missing. The mum reported her missing to the police, but her best friend said she had a secret boyfriend at work, and when they searched her flat, her suitcase and half her clothes are gone, so they’re satisfied she went willingly. Mum hired us - well, me - to see if we can find out where she’s gone. She’s given me her set of keys to Laura’s flat.” She produced them and opened the front door. They entered a small, plain lobby with post boxes, a door leading to some stairs and a lift. “You’re just here because it’s not the greatest part of town and I didn’t want to get caught snooping on my own,” she said cheekily, pressing the button for the lift.

They could hear the mechanism working. “Miracle of miracles, an operational lift in one of these places,” said Strike, who’d been dreading many flights of stairs.

The lift, when it arrived, was small, as was usual in the older blocks in the neighbourhood they were in. Strike stood aside for Robin to enter and followed her in. They were almost close enough for it to be uncomfortable, but not quite. Certainly it added an awareness of each other that they both studiously ignored.

They found the fourth floor flat and entered without incident. The flat was, as the police had concluded, tidy with no signs of a struggle. They explored. “No leftover milk in the fridge,” Strike said, checking for food items as well. “That also indicates she planned to go away.”

“No toothbrush in the bathroom, either,” Robin called. “And her clock radio on her bedside table is switched off at the wall.”

“Definitely a planned trip, then,” Strike said. “So we need to find some clues as to where she might have gone.”

“When I spoke to the mate,” Robin said, making her way back to the living area, “she suggested Laura might not be on a trip but was staying with the boyfriend. There’s no proof of any relationship, though, so the police wouldn’t compel the company to give out any addresses.”

Strike was running a hand along the bookcase that lined one wall. “A lot of files here,” he mused.

“She’s a mature student, studying for a degree at evening classes,” Robin said. “But she’s not due back till after the summer so there was no point ringing them.”

Strike pulled a box file out and opened it. “Robin, look,” he said, and she moved to his side. The file contained a bundle of letters, all in the same hand, addressed to Laura. They were wrapped in a note. Robin opened it.

“‘All the letters I wrote but could never send,’” she read. “‘I thought you’d like to see them now we’re together. All my love, T xxx’”

She looked up at Strike. “So there is a boyfriend,” she said. “And he wrote these.”

Strike nodded. “Let’s hope he’s put his address on them,” he said, and removed the elastic band holding the bundle together. “Or anything that’ll identify him.”

They moved to sit on the sofa and began opening letters.

“They’re all signed ‘A secret admirer’,” said Robin, scanning a few. Strike rolled his eyes. “Does he think that’s romantic?” he asked sceptically.

“I don’t think he intended them to be read, at least not at first,” Robin said. “Listen to this. ‘I know you will never read this, because I will never have the courage to send it, or to tell you how I feel. But working with you brightens my every day.’ It’s kind of sweet.”

Strike snorted, and she glared at him. “What?” she said. “Don’t be a cynic. He might have loads of reasons for not telling her how he feels. They work together and it’s quite a small office, the friend said, only half a dozen or so of them.”

A little uncomfortable suddenly, Strike turned his attention back to the letters in front of him. He picked one at random and opened it. ‘You weren’t at work today,’ it said. ‘I missed your smile, the mug of tea you always make me. I wonder if you’ll ever know how often I think about you.’

Strike sat, staring at the letter, a strange feeling wandering around in his heart.

“What’s that one say?” Robin asked, opening another.

“Nothing useful,” Strike said shortly, shoving the letter back in its envelope and adding it to the pile of ones they’d read.

Robin scanned the next letter she’d picked up, and paused. ‘I’m still chuckling over the joke you made today,’ it said. ‘Your whole face lights up when you smile.’

Flushing a little, she refolded it and added it to the pile. “Still nothing to identify him, let alone an address,” she said.

Feeling almost nervous now, Strike opened the next.

‘I nearly told you how I feel, today,’ it said. ‘I felt like we had a moment over lunch. It felt like you might feel the same way. But I lost my nerve and the moment passed.’

Scowling, he put the letter back in its envelope and tossed it aside. “This is pointless,” he said, more crossly than he’d intended. The letters were getting under his skin. “Nothing here to identify who he is.”

“Oh, but listen,” Robin said. “‘Today you made me tea in my favourite mug again. You’ve given me that mug every time since I said it was my favourite. Sometimes I harbour hopes that you’re beginning to feel the same way about me as I do about you.’ Oh, Cormoran, it’s a real-life love story told though these letters,” she added softly.

Strike cleared his throat gruffly and resolved to start making Robin’s tea in the wrong mug sometimes. And to stop always buying her favourite biscuits when it was his turn on the biscuit run, even though when she went she always bought the ones he liked.

“None of this is actually helping us find her,” he said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than it felt.

“Wait,” Robin said. She’d opened the last letter. “Bingo! ‘My heart is so happy to find my feelings returned. I am the luckiest man alive. I hope one day you’ll find this letter hidden among the others and know how happy I am. Your loving Tomos.’”

She sat quietly for a moment, rereading the sentences. Such happiness for someone who had so long harboured feelings for someone else, and then found them to be returned. Her heart was fluttering a little now. Strike always made her tea in her favourite mug, and she in his.

She gave herself a little mental shake, and smoothed out the letter and took a picture of it on her phone. “Unusual spelling, Tomos. It’s Welsh. Must be only one of him at work. That’s enough for the mum to at least ask the company to pass on a message that she’s worried,” she said, concentrating on sounding businesslike. “I think that’ll do for now. We can always come back.”

Quietly, not looking at one another, they refolded the letters, wrapped them in the note and put the bundle back in the file. Still in silence, they checked everything was as they’d found it, and Robin locked the flat behind them as they left.

“I’m pretty sure now that she’s okay,” Robin said, as they walked down the narrow corridor, so close that their hands were almost touching. “I think they’ve just gone on a trip, or maybe she’s staying with him for a while, and she doesn’t want to tell anyone yet. Keep it to themselves for a while. What a beautiful happy ending.”

Strike said nothing. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letters, and he couldn’t think of anything safe to say. His hand brushed against Robin’s in the close confines of the corridor, and neither of them pulled away.

They reached the lift and Strike pressed the call button. The ancient mechanism creaked into life again. They waited. The silence stretched.

Robin turned to him. He glanced at her and jumped a little at the look in her eyes, soft and questioning. “Cormoran...” she began, just as the lift doors opened. She broke off and flushed a little, turned away and stepped into the lift.

Heart pounding, Strike stepped in after her and she pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors slid closed. The letters, the favourite mugs, Robin loving the happy ending...

She turned to face him, as if about to speak again, and he leaned down and kissed her. She gave a soft gasp of surprise and was very still as his lips moved over hers. Heat swept through him at the feel of her mouth against his, and for a beat Strike was lost in the sensation of her. But still she didn’t move, and fear lurched in his stomach. Had he got this very badly wrong?

He drew back, stuttering an apology, and then suddenly she was reaching for him, her hands sliding into his hair. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, bringing him back down to kiss him again, pulling him against her as she swayed back against the wall.

Then he was pressed against her and his hands were on her waist and he was kissing her deeply, his tongue seeking hers. Robin kissed him back, pulling him closer still, a little moan escaping her as their tongues slid together and explored. A long, blissful moment and then the lift lurched to a stop and the doors opened.

They broke apart, breathless, and gazed at one another. Then Robin smiled softly and Strike’s heart surged with joy.

“Shall we go for a drink?” he asked quietly, and she nodded shyly and took his hand.

 


End file.
